


in awe of something so flawed

by Ellieb3an



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:06:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24738136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellieb3an/pseuds/Ellieb3an
Summary: This is practically a post-battle ritual at this point. It starts with Sylvain’s caring attention on fresh scars no matter how minor, his fingers dancing over them as they still tingle with the lingering healing magic, his eyes taking them in with reverence as his breath catches in his throat. And then, Sylvain maps his body with calloused fingertips and lips that are so thorough that they’re incapable of missing any part of him.Sylvain comforts himself by taking care of Felix.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 95





	in awe of something so flawed

“Syl _vain_ ,” Felix groans — half exasperation, half pleasure as Sylvain’s teeth nip at the tender space above his collarbone. There’s a wet kiss there, warm lips and a flick of Sylvain’s tongue that sends a shiver down Felix’s spine. 

Sylvain hums in question, as if he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing, and continues to take his sweet time trailing his mouth up to kiss behind Felix’s ear in the same slow, deliberate fashion. 

Felix can’t help leaning into the hand that cups his face and tangles through the hair at his nape. The next nip of his ear lobe pulls another groan from him as he grabs a fistful of Sylvain’s shirt and drags his other hand down to press against Sylvain’s hard cock, still disappointingly separated from him by his pants. How unfair that Felix is completely bare for Sylvain’s indulgence and yet the only things of his own that Sylvain has removed are his boots.

Felix has never been a patient man. He doesn’t often stop to appreciate a view or to take his time at… well, anything. And in the past few months since they’ve reunited at Garreg Mach, he’s discovered that extends to intimacy, too. When Sylvain touches him, Felix feels like a starving man brought to a feast. His need grows with every kiss and every touch, his own hands grabbing wherever they can, tearing at clothes, pulling Sylvain closer with the overeagerness to have all of him immediately.

Sylvain, though… Sylvain likes to savor his food. 

His other hand holds Felix by the side, firm as it all but pins him in place to ensure Sylvain can have his way, but its focus is really on the brand new scar there. Puckered pink skin stretches in a long jagged path from Felix’s abdomen to his flank, the unfortunate consequence of meeting the wrong end of a lance on the battlefield three days earlier. There’s still a residual ache, but thanks to Mercedes’s hard work, nothing compared to the pain before of having been nearly gutted. Though Sylvain kissed it lightly already as he stripped Felix’s clothes, he hasn’t completely diverted his attention from it. 

This is practically a post-battle ritual at this point. It starts with Sylvain’s caring attention on fresh scars no matter how minor, his fingers dancing over them as they still tingle with the lingering healing magic, his eyes taking them in with reverence as his breath catches in his throat. And then, Sylvain maps his body with calloused fingertips and lips that are so thorough that they’re incapable of missing any part of him. 

It’s incredible and it’s agonizing because, at the end of the day, no matter how strong he is, Felix is always rendered weak under Sylvain’s hands. To be fair, Sylvain excels at this — at treating his self-indulgence like a mission to satisfy, at finding every spot that feels good and letting the pleasure build until Felix feels like he’s going to combust before he’s even been touched where it counts.

And today, he seems more intent than ever, as if he’s making up for the days Felix spent confined to a bed and he had too much time on his hands during them to form his attack plan. From the moment the door closed from their walk back from the infirmary, Sylvain hasn’t taken his hands off of Felix. Clothes were discarded immediately as he guided Felix to yet another bed. He’s kissed way up from Felix’s side to his jaw and starts to work his way back down the other side. 

Normally by now he’d give into Felix at least a little bit and let him reciprocate, but it takes several attempts on Felix’s part to get him to so much as remove his shirt before grabbing Felix’s ass and descending upon his mouth. At least it’s something. Felix throws his arms around Sylvain’s neck, clings to him to feel the heat of Sylvain’s bare skin against his own, and kisses him back insistently, melting their tongues together until Sylvain breaks away.

Felix calls his name breathlessly when Sylvain makes his path down his chest again. He tugs at the waist of Sylvain’s pants because he’s going to die if he can’t have him right now. “I can’t wait any longer. I need—”

Sylvain shakes his head without looking up, his hair tickling Felix’s skin. “Mercedes said no strenuous activity for you,” he chides before his teeth graze Felix’s nipple and the hand at his hip inches lower.

Felix squirms as heat ignites low in his belly and he tries to draw Sylvain closer. “Then what did you think you were doing teasing me like this?” 

“Oh, I’m not teasing.” 

Sylvain’s mouth covers his nipple, and Felix pushes at him with a disgruntled huff because, _fuck, it feels fantastic_ but not enough to satisfy his appetite.

“ _Sylvain._ ”

Sylvain sits back with his legs folded under him and takes a long moment to admire the full view of Felix before grabbing him by his thighs to pull him almost into his lap. “You’re always in such a rush. Can’t a man appreciate his lover a little bit?” His hands work their way up Felix’s legs, thumbs kneading his inner thighs along the way. 

“You like to torture me,” Felix says, aware that he sounds like a petulant child, and it makes Sylvain laugh.

His hands come to rest high on Felix’s thighs with his thumbs pressed into the dip of his hip bones on either side. “Never.”

“Then why won’t you fuck me already?” Felix stretches his hands over the hard muscles of Sylvain’s stomach and wants him so badly it hurts, even though he knows Sylvain is right. He’s supposed to be taking it easy, lest he undo the healers’ work mending him back together, but he’s had days of pent-up energy too. If he can’t have a sword in his hand, he needs Sylvain, at least.

“You know,” Sylvain says softly, looking back down at Felix’s healed side, “I was terrified when I dragged you off that battlefield. I’ve never seen you hurt so badly — you looked awful. And Mercedes said…” He pauses and reaches for Felix’s scar again, touching him like he’s precious and breakable. “I could have lost you, Felix.”

“But you didn’t.”

Sylvain’s smile is small but genuine. He meets Felix’s eyes with his own that shine and are so unbearably warm and fond that — not for the first time in their relationship — Felix is tempted to look away. The openness and intensity of Sylvain’s love is overwhelming, even though Felix feels the same. He feels it with every square inch of him that wants to hold tight and be one with Sylvain, with the way his awareness of Sylvain on a battlefield has become as much instinct as a slash of his sword, with promises to live together and die together and hopes about a world after war that lets Sylvain be happy and near him. 

But seeing that reflected back on Sylvain’s face makes Felix feel more naked than lying there without his clothes on. It burns in his chest and stings at his eyes, so he closes them and lets Sylvain kiss his side again.

“No, I didn’t,” Sylvain agrees. “Not to this lancer.” He takes Felix’s hand and kisses a burn scar that covers much of his forearm. “Or to this mage.” He follows suit to the old puncture scar between Felix’s ribs. “Or this arrow.” To a slash wound above Felix’s knee. “Or this sword.” His lips find a dozen other scars earned in battle. “You’ve survived them all. You always do. Sometimes I need to remind myself. I just want to memorize you. Every beautiful part of you.”

Felix snorts and ignores the warmth the words bring to his cheeks. “That new one is a pretty ugly scar,” he says, because it’s the truth. Not because he particularly cares or feels bothered by his war-marked body — he has quite a few scars and there will certainly be more before the war is won. They all bear them, like the ones beneath Felix’s fingertips right now as he holds onto Sylvain’s arms.

“Hm.” Sylvain sounds like he disagrees. He kisses it one more time for good measure, rests his palm there and lets his own less sophisticated healing magic trickle into it, feeling very much the way hot tea soothes a scratchy throat. 

Then he finally wraps his hand around Felix’s erection, thumb teasing over the head, already wet with precum. He strokes him long and slow a few times, softly at first but firmer as Felix drops his head back into the pillow and muffles his own moan. He licks up the length of it and twirls his tongue around the tip. 

“Just relax. I’m taking care of you tonight, Fe.” 

There’s so much affection in the words, a softness in his voice, and the stinging in Felix’s eyes won’t go away now. 

“Yeah,” he agrees at last, though it’s little more than a shuddering exhale. He wets his lips and swallows, tries again. “Yeah. Okay.”

Sylvain sinks his mouth over Felix’s cock down to the base in one smooth motion that has him bucking his hips up to meet him. He hums around him while sliding back up, coming off with a dramatic pop as he sucks him hard.

Felix gasps and weaves his fingers into Sylvain’s hair. Biting his lip, he opens his eyes again, and _ah_ , there’s that insatiable appetite staring back at him. Sylvain grins seductively, watching his face as he presses his tongue against Felix’s slit to make him squirm before swallowing him again. He bobs a few times in rhythm with Felix’s rolling hips, and Felix is burning up from the inside.

He growls when Sylvain retreats for a moment, fumbling with something, but Sylvain doesn’t leave him untouched for long. A knee separates Felix’s legs further, and as Sylvain’s mouth descends on him again, slick fingers press against his hole. One slides in, massaging it’s way further before being joined by a second, and Felix trembles.

He tries to say Sylvain’s name but it’s lost in a moan as the fingers press into his prostate and Sylvain pulls off of his dick only to suck down on it again. It sends shockwaves through Felix’s body, every single nerve blazing with pleasure from deep in his core that’s almost too much, too overwhelming. 

Felix pants and arches his body at Sylvain’s mercy. He yanks on his hair because his hands need to grasp something. He whines and moans and feels like he’s going to lose it entirely when Sylvain responds with noises of his own that vibrate around him. Felix can’t even think anymore as he teeters on the edge, dick pulsing.

“Fuck,” he cries, harsh and guttural. He thrusts upward, and Sylvain takes him back into his throat as Felix comes hard, vision going white and legs shaking.

Sylvain’s fingers fuck him just a second too long, leaving him overstimulated and incapacitated as he finally releases him.

Felix lets his hands drop like lead weights onto the bed when Sylvain sits back up and wipes the corner of his mouth with his thumb. He looks so incredibly satisfied and hungry at the same time, his eyes dark with lust.

“Fuck, Felix, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve seen,” he says quietly, like he’s in awe. He swoops in for a kiss and finally, _finally_ , withdraws himself from his own pants. 

Felix reaches a still shaking hand to join his but it steadies the moment he feels Sylvain's weight in it.

“I’ve got it,” Sylvain protests, but Felix silences him with another kiss and a languid but firm stroke. He sighs and drops his forehead onto Felix’s shoulder.

Felix plays with the hair at the nape of his neck and begins to pump him faster. “I didn’t hurt my hands,” he says against Sylvain’s ear, and he delights in feeling Sylvain shiver the way he did.

It’s not the most comfortable angle, but Felix fears if he tries to shift them too much, the spell will be broken and Sylvain will deny him the chance to reciprocate tonight. So he strokes him roughly and unevenly and kisses his neck to make up for the lack of skill in his hand. And it’s enough because Sylvain comes over his stomach, calling Felix’s name and collapsing against his uninjured side.

They lie together, hot and sweaty and loose-limbed, hearts still beating fast. 

Felix turns his head and lets his nose brush Sylvain’s. “I love you.”

Kissing his forehead, Sylvain says the words back. His fingers dance over Felix’s scars again, and Felix sighs.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are always appreciated <3
> 
> Find me on twitter @3llieb3an and @3lli3b3an :)


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